Legal Assassin
by MizzeriSong
Summary: An assassin with eyes like dying suns, a politician's son, neglected and rebellious, and a strange twist of fate that sends them each through their own, personal hell. Each have hidden scars, hidden passions, and a secret that could bring them together... or tear them to shreds. Modern AU. BlackIce
1. First Sight

I know I know, I havent finished midsummer snow, but the next (longer) chapter is being worked on I swear. Anyways, here's something to tide you over in the mean time. Oh, and go show me some love on tumbler! asksyren . tumbler . com (remove the spaces!) Anyways, on with the show!

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In the dark and quiet of some back alley, close to midnight on an early winter night the sound of running feet hitting the dank pavement is sharp and clear. A heartbeat of fear, a rhythm of panic, and then the calm steps of a pursuer joins, creating a symphony of dread. There was a soft, deep laugh; so gentle and patronizing, such a beautiful sound in the deep of the night. The frightened prey was cornered against a brick wall, scrambling and grasping for any escape, fingers bloodied as they were scraped raw by the sandpaper like surface slicked by a subtle coating of dew turned frost. The soft sound of footsteps drawing calmly nearer caused the frightened man to turn around with a terrified shriek that was immediately cut off with the sound of utter terror; silence. Not but an inch away from his face, eyes that were black as night with a burst of gold around each pupil stared at him with the unblinking gaze of a large cat about to consume its prey. A slow, predatory grin spread across a dark face, and a silent, mocking "boo…!" was the last thing that man ever saw and heard as pain blossomed like a crimson flower in his lower abdomen…

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Kozmotis Pitchener was a patient man. There was very little in this world that could unsettle, surprise or otherwise upset him. It was the only reason he could wander these worthless, boring parties without throwing a childish tantrum. People who had not seen him before or did not see him often would pause to stare and gape at him like he was some sort of freak show, and while he would never admit to taking a bit of perverse pleasure in being noticed, he would admit that he enjoyed 'ruffling their feathers' with a sneer or other expression of disdain. Yes, he was a very patient man. Well, at least he had always thought of himself as such, until this night that is.

It was just like any other party, with him dressed in a fashionable and modern attire as he patrolled and kept watch for anything that would upset the guests in any way. His gold and black eyes were sharper than any other persons there, as they should be. They could pick up the tiniest detail, the most minute of hints that someone was or was about to be upset. It was those sharp eyes that caught a glimpse of white amid the crowd, and for some reason his eyes sought it out with the single minded aim of a predator upon his prey. His inky black shoes seemed to move him towards that fleeting glimpse without his permission; however he was not in much of a mind to care.

Finally he could see him clearly, a young man around 20-23 years of age. He looked utterly bored an out of place with his slightly punk-ish attire and heavy headphones. His hair was the color of snow beneath the moonlight, whiter than moonbeams with the slightest glint of silvery blue, his pale and thin figure making him look absolutely ethereal. Pitch could feel something in him shift, and he stepped out from his usual shadows, in plain sight. Those icy eyes were roaming, searching for something, and Pitch had every confidence that he would be noticed. How could the petite silverette _not _notice the 6'7" man with gray skin, black hair and tar black Armani leather suit? He smirked gently, waiting for that initial shock and curiosity...but it never came. Those piercing eyes swept right past him without so much as a blink, and he scowled in confusion.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something akin to aggravation rise like a bubble of heat in his chest.

* * *

Jackson Lunanof had absolutely no patience. None whatsoever. He wanted out of this place and he wanted out right now. With a barely contained glare he followed his father, Manuel Lunanof, towards another group of his associates. Manuel was done up in his custom silver and gold Armani suit with matching posh shoes, looking as radiant as ever. Looking his father over, he had to admit he was a handsome bastard, even at his ancient age. He had the face and build of a man in his early 30's, and was damn proud of it, the youth of his face only accented by his bright blue eyes and platinum blonde hair that had a light shine of sunlight to it when he moved. Jackson knew that he himself was a sight, and very obviously his father's son with his equally pale hair and complexion. With a heavy sigh and narrowed eyes he slipped away from his attention whore of a father and made a beeline for the nearest door. If he wasn't mistaken... there, halfway behind a long curtain was a glass door… yes!

Slipping outside onto a balcony he heaved a more relieved sigh, taking in the cold of the night with contentment. His dark, brand name jeans and white and blue shirt alone would be a bit too cold, but he luckily remembered a thin jacket. It was mostly blue with a white, upturned collar and white lined pockets and white sleeves. A ring of antique looking keys jangled on the front left of his hips as he leaned back against the balcony railing, bringing up thick teal headphones. He didn't get the chance to put them on as a man -a very old, white haired, wrinkly and obviously drunken man- stepped out onto the balcony with him. Jackson barely smothered a groan.

"Well-" the man hiccuped, "hello there, pretty boy!" Jack sneered, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "I saw you slipping away there… feeling too cooped up in there-" he slurred and hiccuped again, "with all us… old folk?" He gave a drunken laugh and lurched forward, nearly landing on Jack if he hadn't sidestepped quickly.

"Yeah, the point kinda was to get away from 'all you old folk'. Looks like _that_ plan failed though." There was no shortage of sarcasm in that statement. Raising a single, silvery brow he hoped the man would take the hint and _go away_.

Yeah, that also failed. "Aw come n-" he hiccupped again, "now. Dun be that way." He staggered towards Jack, making a grab for his arm. "I can _fun_, real fun. I can show things you nev-never seen." He slurred through a laugh. "You would look mi-mighty fine in some…silver and diamond cuffs…wouldn'cha luv?" He made another grab for Jack, not noticing the utter iciness of his teal gaze. With a soft snarl he knocked the man's hand aside with an expert sweep of his arm, pulled back his fist and launched a furious punch straight at the guy's face…

…And connected with a gray – yes _gray_- palm. Long, elegant and strong _gray_ fingers curled around his much smaller hand in a firm yet gentle grasp. Startled, Jack reared back but that grasp would not let him back up very far. Looking up he saw a man of at least, if not more than, six and a half feet with wide shoulders and a trim waist standing just beside the drunken man. Jack could only blink in confusion as the man very calmly leaned to the side and murmured something with a dark gaze to the drunkard, sending him scrambling away with a pale face. Finally, that gold and onyx gaze settled its full weight on Jack and he couldn't help but shiver.

There was a slight pause, a heavy silence. Those gentle fingers gave his fist a squeeze. "Are you going to behave now? That could have landed you in quite a bit of trouble, you know." Jack shook himself out of whatever la-la land he'd been in and snatched his fist back, glaring dangerously at the other man who held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm only saying, I don't mean to patronize you." He grinned when the boy leaned back against the balcony railing, crossing his arms with a soft 'humph'.

"Yeah well… thanks for that, and for chasing that creep off." Jack shrugged, frowning a bit and watching the tall man as he folded his hands behind his back. "So, what do I call my Argyrian savior?" He grinned impishly when the man's eyes rounded out a bit.

"What's this? Someone intelligent enough to recognize Argyria when they see it? Well, at least my silver poisoning will not be mistaken for a relationship to the boogeyman, oh happy day." The sarcasm and devilish grin paired with the raspy, slightly English accent had Jack choking back a laugh. He joined that laughter with a soft chuckle. "Kozmotis Pitchener, at your service, oh silver one, but please do call me Pitch." He sketched a slightly dramatic bow.

Jack let out a real laugh and shook his head, tossing his silvery spikes gently, revealing a tiny sapphire piercing in his left ear. He reached out and shook the man's hand. "Jackson Lunanof, friends call me Jack." That large, strong yet curiously gentle hand wrapped around his own pale one, giving it a firm shake. They both exchanged equally devilish smiles; it looked like the start of quite the friendship.


	2. Foot in the Door

A short filler and connection maker.

Nothing too naughty is going through their minds... too naughty.

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Kozmotis leaned forward in a polite half bow. "Please, Mr. Lunanof. It was my fault, I stepped in before Jackso-"

Manuel cut him off with a quiet glare. There was nothing malicious or dark, it was just a quiet look like he was saying "finish up". It was enough to quiet the tall and dark man. "Jackson should have laid the man flat on the ground." He turned a disapproving eye on his son. To anyone else, it would sound like he was being protective of the boy, but Jack already knew where this was going. "No one will insinuate that a child of the Lunanof house is a common whore. And a fag, at that. The Lunanof name can only be held by those worthy of it, and you should have defended it even if it meant taking Pitchener down in the process."

Always about the damn name. Forget that his son had almost been sexually assaulted, no it was all about the offense to the name. Jack rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall. "I thought that would just make a scene, besides, it should make a good impression that someone like Pitchener would come to the aid of the Lunanof family. Don't you think we should thank him for resolving the issue quietly?"

Manuel made a soft sound of assent. "That sharp mind of yours is why you are to be a lawyer. As my son says, I should thank you, Kozmotis, for keeping it quiet." He gave the grey skinned man a look, one that promised retribution if he didn't keep his mouth shut.

"Of course." Pitch resisted the urge to roll his eyes as well.

Manuel nodded his pale head, straightening his long silver coat and turning away sharply. "As a matter of fact, I think I will speak with your current employer and see if I cannot have it arranged for you to begin training Jackson in self-defense, seeing that you are so good at it." Pitch would have paled if he could. "This will be added on top of your current jobs, so don't worry about a dip in your salary. As a matter of fact, you will get quite the raise." With that he exited, leaving Jack to groan apologetically and Pitch sighing.

"I'm sorry, Pitch." Jack gave him a wince, rubbing his own shoulder. "I know you don't need to be babysitting some rich kid on your spare time."

"Not your fault at all, Jackson. I did stick my nose in where it had no business being." He shrugged and turned a half glare on the boy. "Please tell me you're at least semi-competent." The way his voice drawled over the words was unique to him and made it sound like he was seriously annoyed, but that tiny curve at the corner of his lips made it clear he was teasing.

"Of course I am!" Jack laughed, cocking his head impishly. "When daddy dear thinks I'm out doin god knows what, I'm usually at a friend's place. He's taught me quite a bit." He smirked devilishly. "How about on these "training" days, I'll show you the best getaways and hangouts around? That way you can catch up on your beauty sleep. Your skin looks like it could use it."

"Ha-ha, Jackson, ha…ha," Pitch intoned drolly. He chuckled softly and jerked his head to where the elder Lunanof went. "Shouldn't you be following him? I have a feeling he'll leave you behind."

He shrugged, shaking out his silvery spikes. "It's fine, I got my own ride and my own place nearby. I got out of that house as soon as I could." Jack raised a brow at the soft "is that so" and half lidded look that Pitch gave him, if he'd been a girl he would have thought that look was pretty sexy. Hell, the man's eyes _were_ pretty sexy, even from his point of view. It's not like Jack was particular about gender, but so far he had preferred women. Something so cuddly and soft about them. "Yeah, I got a studio close to the college. It's close by to here too, actually."

"You are quite lucky then. I have… " He hummed, "…oh, about a 2 hour drive from here tonight." He shrugged his broad shoulder, looking out the window with a wry half grin. "I do so enjoy driving at night though. It's peaceful."

Jack looked him up and down, tilting his head the other way. "…I do owe you one. How about you stay over at my place if you're tired? These parties take a lot out of you, ya'know?" He grinned. "But don't think you're getting _my_ bed, the couch is a futon. Comfy, I swear." They both laughed softly, Pitch shaking his head already to decline.

But he paused, raking his eyes over the pale boy…no… man. He just looked young, but in all honesty he was fully grown, and he was beautiful in that sharp, angular way of men. "You know what, Jackson… I may just take you up on that offer."

Jack grinned at him with an almost evil glint. "Oh… that's only if you can keep up though." He snickered and strolled off, pitch stalking after him with a soft smirk.

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Keep in mind kiddies I see how many of you view... B| Reviews plox!


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